


It Takes A Village

by kellifer_fic



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2011-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellifer_fic/pseuds/kellifer_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The Afflicted Shall Not Touch<br/>The Afflicted Shall Not Knowingly Use Their Affliction<br/>The Afflicted Shall Listen To The Elders In All Things</i></p><p>The inhabitants of a small, isolated countryside village live in fear that those outside will find them, that monsters called The Sentinels will sense their Afflictions and come looking for them. A village full of children live a suspended existence, their only protection three mysterious Elders that rule over them in all things. Erik and Charles, barely adults themselves, manage as best they can in a place full of secrets and whispers, nightmares and the ever-present threat of discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes A Village

[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v43/kellifer_k/?action=view&current=cover-1.jpg)

\- E -

Erik stands in front of a small headstone, clasping his hands together. He doesn’t hear Charles approach but his warmth appears at Erik’s back between one breath and the next all the same.

“This could have been avoided,” Erik says through clenched teeth, angry at a world that would let this happen. “Daniel lingered for three days before infection took him. There was time enough-”

“What is it you think that could have been done?” Charles asks gently. “None of us have the power-“

“None of _us_ , I agree,” Erik interrupts, silencing Charles with a sharp snap of his hand. “But I can’t believe out there, somewhere there isn’t _someone_ who does.”

“Out there?” Charles asks and then seems to understand what Erik is referring to. His face tracks towards the borders of the village, ringed in old growth, ancient trees reaching towards the sky. “Perhaps if we were lucky enough...“ Charles starts to say, contemplative.

“We can’t rely on luck for something like this,” Erik snaps and feels immediately bad for the way Charles flinches at his tone. He knows that Charles just wishes to protect them all, but the cost is starting to seem too high. Erik’s eyes track back to the small headstone before him, the brief words summarising a briefer life.

 _Daniel, seven years old._

\- C -

It was the scream that woke him.

The others often joked that as Charles' sight dimmed, his ears grew keener. Charles himself tended to agree with them, thinking that perhaps he would hear a moth's wings beat from the other side of the village when his sight finally failed him completely. He knew though, wrenched from deep slumber as he was, that this was a sound loud enough for everyone to hear.

His suspicion was confirmed when Charles made it to the living space of his house and saw the dim outline of what he knew must be Sean at his doorway, one hand raised to rap on his screen and the cuff of a sleeve clasped between his teeth.

Charles couldn't actually see this much detail with his poor eyesight but he knew it was Sean's most common habit when stressed, which he always seemed to be of late.

"Yes, I heard it," Charles says in way of greeting, navigating the small living space expertly. It’s strange that his vision is always sharpest in the half-light of the almost-dawn. It’s like the light that is retreating from him faster each day robs objects of their definition, blurring their lines. "Are the children playing that infernal game again?"

"I don't know," Sean says and Charles swallows the stir of irritation at that. Sean is _supposed_ to be on watch, sitting in the tower that overlooks the entirety of their village. He should know _exactly_ what caused such a cry, not be hopping from foot to foot like a startled rabbit on Charles' porch. While the Elders are not in the village however, Charles and Erik seem to be the ones that everyone looks to for authority and Charles imagines that Sean didn't hesitate fleeing from the tower at that first piercing scream to Charles' house which was closest by a scant few yards.

Erik himself, speak of the devil, appears behind Sean's shoulder. He's rubbing at his face like he can clear the sleep from it just by dry-washing with his hands. "The sun isn't up and neither should anyone else,” he grunts. “This better be good."

"I think maybe the children are playing that damn game again," Charles says, hoping that's all it is. Erik's feet are bare against Charles' porch boards and the bottoms of his sleep pants are wet from the morning dew on the grass. Charles can't exactly see this, but he knows it anyway from the low grade grumbling that Erik is letting slip from his sleep addled brain.

Charles knows it's Forbidden, but he can't stop using his Affliction like most can. It's an unconscious thing to allow it to flesh out the world he can see less and less of like a fading photograph. He sometimes wonders if these little lapses in his concentration are the reason behind some of the attacks, even though Erik assures him after each one that he's never to blame.

He can't help feeling responsible.

"I'm going to skin them alive if that's the case," Erik growls. "If the Sentinels haven't first," he adds like an afterthought and Charles watches Sean's blurred shape flinch at their mention.

"Erik," Charles warns and gropes for his stick by the door, the last thing he puts down and the first thing he picks up when he enters or exits his house. Charles doesn't need to see Erik's amused smile to know it's there when he advances out the door, Erik always claiming Charles doesn't need the stick to navigate the village, it's so small he knows every nook and cranny by heart.

"I carry it to beat the kids with," Charles always jokes.

"You'd best get home," Charles says, prodding a relieved Sean in the direction of the house he shares with the brothers, Alex and Scott. "It's about time for Angel to take the tower anyway and Erik and I can walk the border till then."

"What if it's really them?" Sean asks right before he steps off Charles' porch. Charles sometimes wonders what happened to Sean before he was brought to the village, what made him so skittish, only ever relaxed and smiling when in the company of Alex who'd been an unexpected godsend.

"We'll sound the alarm," Charles assures him. "We'll hide."

\- E -

Erik holds the record for the game. In his younger days, he'd thought it a point of pride that it was never broken. Now however, he has to hear from Charles about how it's because of _him_ that they have to go through this what seems like every week.

"They all want to best you which is why they keep doing it," Charles complains as Erik sneaks a sideways glance at him. Charles, despite his failing sight, is always swift and sure in his movements. The lines of his body are tense and angry now and Erik, who'd only meant to glance at him, feels his eyes snag and catch on the purposeful way Charles moves. Without so much as a glimpse towards Erik in return, Charles snaps, "Would you stop staring like that. I'm not scolding you."

They head towards the place they call The Stump where the game is most often played, the large cut-off remnant of an ancient tree that can hold three or four children standing toe to toe but most often only holds one, hands outstretched and back facing the line of woods that borders the village.

"It sounds like it," Erik grumbles and then reaches to poke Charles in the side. Charles darts away just before Erik's fingers connect and Erik snorts. "How did you know I was staring anyway?"

"It's not nice to make fun of the impaired," Charles says instead of answering his question and Erik rolls his eyes, sure that Charles knows he's doing that too.

"This isn't my fault," Erik says and then in a lower tone corrects, "Not _completely_ my fault."

Charles stops and turns to him, putting an unerring hand to Erik's shoulder and seeming to look straight through him. Erik grimaces and pulls away from Charles' grip even though it's the very last thing he wants to do, even though he’d been the first to reach out.

It's one of the Laws. The Afflicted cannot touch.

Charles seems to remember himself and curls his hand back into his body, giving a wry chuckle. "You can't blame the children for wanting to try to best you. They idolise you."

"They idolise _you_ ," Erik argues and it's true so far as he's concerned. When the Elders are not in the village, Erik sees most flock to Charles with their hurts and problems, both mental and physical. He's a light they're drawn to while Erik sometimes feels he's completely made of shadow and dark corners. "They fear me."

"And rightly so," Charles agrees, grinning in the way that brings out the most creases around his eyes. It always amuses Erik when Charles calls the others children as he's barely past being one himself. Despite this, his face is already lined with character, perhaps always was. "You're an imposing figure amongst us mere mortals."

"Now who's making fun, hmm?" Erik prods but then groans, because they're closer to the area the game is played and he sees immediately that while there is no danger, Charles is still going to be impossible about what's happening because the blue shape in the distance is unmistakably Charles' sister, Raven. "Maybe I should handle-" Erik begins, hoping that maybe Charles hasn't recognised Raven from that distance but that hope is dashed when Charles mutters a curse under his breath and increases his pace.

"I didn't think to check she was still in her bed," Charles grits out as Erik hurries to keep pace with him. "Why didn't I check?"

"She's obviously alright," Erik points out and she is, standing at the edge of the trees with her hands in fists on her hips and screaming at the top of her lungs at someone on the ground. Three others stand in an uncertain clump a few feet away and startle like birds when they spot Erik and Charles coming, obviously torn over whether to flee or stay. As they draw closer, the figure on the ground is also easy to recognise, red-skinned and with a pointed tail curled protectively around himself. Azazel holds a hand to his jaw and is scowling at Raven's tirade.

As she pauses for breath, Erik hears him say, "It was only a joke," which sets Raven off at a higher pitch and with more expletives.

"Raven!" Charles snaps and she turns on them, looking like she's ready to do battle with her legs braced and her fists coming up but she immediately subsides when she recognises Charles. "Was that your scream we heard clear across the village?"

"It's not my fault," Raven says, any strength in her voice that she was using on Azazel gone, instead using a sullen whine. "Azazel thought it was _funny_ to grab me from behind while I was playing the game."

"You point out Azazel's wrong but not your own," Charles says and Raven frowns at her toes.

"I-"

"None of you are supposed to be here. It's either punishment for all of you or none. Which would you prefer?" Now all the children are staring at their toes, all except Azazel who is rising to his feet and brushing himself off. He's still touching his jaw tentatively and Erik can see that the knuckles on Raven's right hand are slightly reddened, the color almost purple because of Raven's blue skin underneath.

Erik tries not to be proud that Raven socked him hard enough that he went down because he knows Charles would not approve.

"I didn't hear him coming. It's not fair to use his Affliction like that," Raven grumbles and Erik feels Charles stiffen beside him and out of the corner of his eye he can see Azazel also freeze. Raven seems to only just realise what she's said and smacks her unbruised hand to her mouth, eyes widening.

"Raven," Charles says slowly, voice devoid of all emotion, all hints of playful scolding gone. "That's a very serious accusation. Are you sure that's what happened?"

"I didn't-" Raven starts and then her gaze darts to Azazel whose anger and humiliation have fled, replaced by fear. "He wasn't-" she tries again, still not managing to get out what she wants to say.

Charles leaves Erik's side, waving a hand at the three spectators who gratefully flee, tussling amongst themselves as they run back to the small ring of houses towards the center of the village. He stands in front of Raven, lowering his face until they're eye to eye to better bring her stricken face into focus. "Raven," he repeats as Raven now trembles before him. "If something like that happened, we must bring it to the attention of the Elders. _Did_ it?" When Raven just blinks mutely at him, Charles reaches out, his hand not quite connecting but hovering just over Raven's shoulder like he aches to. "You have to be _very_ sure."

"He must have... just been very quiet," Raven finally manages. "I was concentrating and I didn't hear him sneak up behind me."

"Good," Charles says, his serious expression dropping away like it was never there and clapping his hands once, loud, a sharp sound that makes Raven and Azazel jump. "I'm sure that's what occurred. Now I'm sure you both have chores that need doing."

Raven and Azazel nod as one, scrambling away as soon as Charles dismisses them with a wave. Erik is left alone with Charles, who lowers himself to a seat on The Stump like an old man, his weight on his stick the whole way down.

"If you wanted to terrify them, you certainly succeeded," Erik says gently and Charles grimaces, setting his stick aside and dropping his head into his left hand.

"They won't be up here again anytime soon, that's for sure," he continues and Charles grunts.

"Yes they will. Sooner or later they'll think what happened wasn't that serious or the other children will urge them or they'll be bored. Some ridiculous reason."

"Do you think Azazel really-"

"No," Charles says firmly, rising back to his feet and straightening his shirt with a sharp tug. "I certainly do _not_ think that. If I did I would have to bring it to the attention of the Elders, as would you."

"Right," Erik says as Charles brushes by him and heads back the way they came. "Of course."

\- C -

The Elders enter the village once a fortnight to hold Conference. It’s usually a dry affair, the Elders governing the small group and sorting out petty squabbles as a village mostly made up of children and those barely past that are wont to have. Not all come to the meetings, some unsettled by the presence of the Elders, not liking the reminder they represent that there is a world outside their own, a world that hates them and wishes them harm.

Erik doesn’t usually make an appearance, claiming boredom rather than fear as his reason for avoidance so Charles is more than a little surprised to see Erik standing when Elder Stryker asks if there is any more business. Erik must have slipped into the back of the hall when all were distracted by Elder Frost sorting out a fight between Janos and the younger Summers brother.

Remy leans sideways into Charles. “This out to be good,” he hisses with a snicker Charles doesn’t like at all. Being in close quarters, it’s hard to keep the peace, especially when those such as Remy and Janos seem intent on causing trouble. The usual cause of friction between Janos and Scott is Janos’ constant need to pick on Sean and so by extension Scott’s brother, Alex. It’s strange that while Alex is the older of the two, Scott seems to be the one who has taken it upon himself to be caretaker. “Your friend usually doesn’t dare step foot in the Main Hall.”

“I’m sure it’s important if Erik feels the need to raise issue with the Elders,” Charles automatically defends and Charles can feel Remy’s gaze on him, calculating. Remy is a little older than Charles and Erik both, entering the village at a later age than most and having memories of the world outside that haunt him because of it. Charles will forgive him for a lot of his behaviour because of this, but even Charles’ patience and understanding will only extend so far. “He wouldn’t waste the Elders’ time with trivial matters like _your_ friend.”

Erik clears his throat as all attention settles on him and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. Remy snickers again and Charles resists the urge to elbow him in the side, _hard_. Elder Shaw sits forward in his chair, elbows on the long table in front of him, looking intrigued. “My dear Erik,” he says with a smile in his voice that Charles is made uncomfortable by. “We hardly ever hear from you. Whatever it is must be downright thrilling.”

Erik clears his throat again, a nervous tick and Charles can’t help but feel a helpless swell of affection at the sound. He also squashes feelings of hurt that Erik would not have confided in him before the meeting about whatever it is he was about to bring up. He had thought they discussed everything, including things important enough to bring up with the Elders.

“I am two years away from the age of Migration,” Erik begins and Charles now feels Remy shift next to him, suddenly uncomfortable. Remy being only six months away from Migration himself must not like being reminded of it. “I wish to request that I be allowed to leave the protection of the village before my time, to seek a healer who would be willing to travel back with me and tend to us.”

Elder Stryker looks startled, gaping. Charles can’t tell for sure because there is always a blankness around the Elders that he does not feel around the children of the village, but he thinks possibly Elder Frost is not surprised and certainly Elder Shaw seems amused more than anything. “How would you find such an individual since all those Afflicted must hide themselves and their Affliction for fear of discovery?”

“Perhaps Charles-“ Erik starts and Charles feels all attention swing in his direction. Erik swallows audibly and seems to have reached the end of his pre-prepared words because he falters. “I mean Charles seems to... he knows if...” Erik’s words trail off into silence, unsure now like Charles has never experienced him to be. The others in the village don’t fear Erik as he thinks they do, they’re in awe of him. He always seems to know what he’s doing, where he’s going. He stays true to his course, certain in a way that few are.

He seems to lose that the moment he mentions Charles’ name.

Charles feels compelled to do something, anything to rescue Erik from the tense silence that’s growing, so he stands. He doesn’t miss the way Remy moves his chair slightly sideways, as if to distance himself from Charles and what he’s doing. The Elders are fair in most respects, but sometimes if a member of the village breaks one of the laws in a way that can’t be forgiven, a way that endangers them all, then they would disappear, their Migration brought forward.

Charles doesn’t want to know what it would be like to wake up one morning and find Erik merely gone without a trace. They are due to Migrate at the same time and Charles has always found a small measure of comfort in the idea that wherever they’re eventually going, at least they’re going there together.

“Are you suggesting that you and Charles travel to the outside world, that you have Charles use his _Affliction_ when there are Sentinels just waiting for that very thing?” Elder Frost asks. Her face and tone are friendly but despite the careful blankness around them, Charles still gets a chill down his spine. _Be careful, you are treading very thin ice_ he can swear he almost hears in his mind. “Do you forget why you are here in the first place?”

“I didn’t forget,” Erik says and his tone strengthens with his words, a little of the old Erik coming back. “I can’t forget something I don’t know in the first place.”

“Erik-“ Shaw begins and Erik breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth slowly. Charles feels the hairs on the back of his neck stir, a few nails left over from fixing his porch railing starting to vibrate in his pocket. Charles knows if he continues to do nothing then this will all end very badly.

“We came here too young to know the kind of dangers that await us outside,” Charles blurts and Erik’s face snaps his way, the almost-electricity in the room draining away. “Daniel’s death has unsettled us all, made us question why we have been saved when so many haven’t.”

“Charles-“ Erik starts to say but Charles speaks over him, acutely aware that at that very moment he is most probably saving Erik’s life, and Erik won’t thank him for it.

“We’re grateful to the Elders for time we’ve been given, the time we might not have been allowed otherwise. The safety in which we live.”

“The safety we’ve gifted you,” Elder Stryker growls, smacking a hand on the table in front of them.

“I only ask for the chance-“ Erik starts to say again and Charles puts a hand up and out, begging for silence.

“All Erik means, all _I_ mean is that separated as we are, sometimes it’s hard to remember the danger we’re all in. Losing one of us is a shock and can derail rational thought.”

“Charles is right,” Elder Frost interjects, putting a hand to Elder Stryker’s arm and squeezing gently. He winces and subsides, the anger emanating from him, slipping past that strange blankness dissipating fast. “Erik, you know we cannot allow you to leave the village, it isn’t safe.”

Erik bows his head and clenches his fists. There’s fury in the lines of his body and Charles knows that some of it will be directed at him. “Charles, please take Erik outside while we finish up,” Elder Shaw instructs.

Charles squeezes past Remy and into the aisle made by the two rows of chairs in the Meeting Hall. Erik doesn’t wait for him, slams out of the hall on his own. Charles grips his stick in his fist and hurries after.

\- E - 

“I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours sometimes,” Erik hears behind him and he rounds on Charles, so fast and with such anger that Charles stumbles to a stop, stick held between them like he’s expecting a blow.

“ _Don’t_ you?” Erik sneers. “I’m sure that isn’t true.”

Charles flinches at the blatant accusation in Erik’s voice and Erik feels immediately contrite, the embarrassment that was fuelling his anger draining away with Charles’ stricken expression. Charles’ actions inside the Meeting Hall were to be expected, were the very reason that Erik did not tell him of his plans before. “I’m sorry Charles, I didn’t mean that,” he says in a gentler tone.

“You did actually,” Charles says, wry. “It’s okay though. I don’t blame you.”

“I’m a bad friend sometimes,” Erik says with a shrug. “I don’t know why you continue to put up with me.”

“What choice do I have?” Charles says with a grin. “The only others my age are Janos and Remy and I would rather boil my head in a pot of Sean’s terrible soup than have them for companions.”

“Oh, so I’m merely your only choice am I?” Erik asks, feigning hurt and pouting mightily. “You could always spend time with your sister and her cohorts.”

“I value my sanity too much for that,” Charles says and Erik nods, understanding. Raven certainly runs Charles ragged with her antics already and to actually inflict them on himself intentionally would probably be the end of him.

“No,” Charles says with a tone of finality. “I’m afraid you are the only one of a very few limited options for me.”

“Well that’s certainly not flattering at all,” Erik laughs, the mood lightened.

“I don’t wish to flatter you. There are plenty of those willing to do that.”

“I don’t want anyone else to flatter me,” Erik says, perhaps a little too boldly because Charles blinks at him and flushes a very fetching shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. Erik feels the urge, not for the first time, to wrap Charles up in his arms and cuddle him silly. It would be a very hazardous thing to do with the Elders only a scant few feet away and contact being taboo but he can’t help it and he must be wearing a silly grin on his face that betrays something of his thoughts because Charles goes even pinker, which Erik didn’t think was possible.

“I have...erm... class?” Charles gets out, sounding a little strangled. Erik nods and chuckles, watching Charles hurry away, his stick held out in front of him, as useless as ever. Charles turns before he disappears around a corner though. “Promise you won’t do anything that rash again without discussing it with me first,” Charles calls. “Especially if you expect me to be involved.”

“Where would the fun in that be?” Erik calls back and waves Charles off.

When Charles is gone, Erik turns back to the Meeting Hall to find Janos and Remy standing behind him, the others pouring out of the meeting hall at their backs. The Elders are nowhere to be seen which is their usual way, appearing and disappearing without anyone seeing them. “Want to play the game?” Remy asks, his thickly accented voice amused.

“Aren’t we a little old for that?” Erik snorts.

“I heard that Charles’ little sister was attempting to break your record,” Janos says. “We thought you might want to make it a little more unattainable.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Erik asks, suddenly feeling tired. Like Charles, sometimes the inescapable presence of some around him grates. He can’t avoid Remy and Janos forever and he knows once they get an idea in their head they rarely, if ever, let it go.

“You were willing to risk leaving the village. I’m sure standing on a stump at its border would be nothing to you now,” Janos wheedles and Erik doesn’t have to be Afflicted as Charles is to know that something isn’t right.

“I won’t be a pawn for your amusement,” he snaps and does the only smart thing he can at this point.

He walks away.

Charles would be so proud.

\- C -

“Why do they hate us?” Jubilation asks, her voice small and her usually large eyes even larger still.

“Why would you say that?” Charles asks as the other children watch him expectantly. The thing about a village such as theirs is that nothing is ever secret for very long. Most would have heard, possibly before the Elders’ meeting even let out that Erik had asked to leave and why. Whenever something like that occurred, the reason the village existed at all would invariably come up.

“They would murder us in our beds,” Paige says, chewing on the end of a braid. Charles sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He hates that such small beings can hold such large amounts of fear inside.

“Why would such a notion come into your mind?” Charles asks.

“Janos says that they’re meat-eaters. They would skin us alive and eat our bones,” Paige says and the other children nod sagely, like this is wisdom of the ages.

“They have large claws and pointed teeth,” Angelo pipes up. The young boy is having a rare good day, his Affliction unlike most causing him physical ailment that cannot be controlled by simply not using it. He pushes at his arms, trying to move sagging grey skin into place much like someone would push up the sleeves of a sweater on a warm day.

“Was that from Janos too?” Charles asks, at a loss as to what pleasure someone could derive from telling such horror stories to children. The ten small souls in his classroom nod as one and Charles knows that he is not going to get to teach any science that day. He closes the battered text book he uses carefully, the book threatening to fall apart completely with any rougher handling. He’d been planning to ask the Elders for more materials for the school but had forgotten after Erik’s little outburst. “Humans have never breached our borders and the Sentinels are blind to us here as long as we do not use our Afflictions. We do not go into their cities and they do not come into our village.”

“But-“ Jubilation starts again and Charles holds up a hand.

“The Elders brought each and every one of you here because they wanted to protect you. This is a safe place.”

\- E -

“You’re very brave asking to leave the village as you did,” Raven says. She’s sitting on the fence outside Erik’s small house that holds in the few goats he keeps. He likes their company, they don’t judge him, don’t have any particular expectations except that they be milked and fed. She swings her feet, bare of shoes. Charles manages to get her into a dress to leave the house but Erik knows it is an ongoing battle trying to get her into anything else.

Erik’s not sure why he bothers. Raven’s scaled skin means that even undressed, she is not what he would call indecent. He rather likes her blue form, likes the reminder that they are all unique, wishes he had features that would differentiate him from the monsters that would kill them in their beds.

“I don’t know if I’d call it brave,” Erik says. “I know your brother would call it something very different.”

“Charles is overly cautious, always has been,” Raven says. She eyes Erik, the yellow making her expression harder to gauge than most. “Especially where people he cares about are concerned.”

“Charles often wonders how I get some notions in my head. I wonder the same about you,” Erik says, hoping that a blush doesn’t betray him, much like it does Charles.

“Can we speak of other matters if the subject of Charles makes you so uncomfortable?”

“It would be a relief,” Erik says and Raven grins, her white teeth dazzling in her blue face.

“I’m in love,” she blurts and Erik’s relief at the subject change is extremely short-lived. “I’m going to marry.”

“There’s a way in which these things are supposed to happen,” Erik points out, surprised. “For one, you and the boy should be presenting yourselves to Charles and then to the Elders.”

“I haven’t spoken to him yet,” Raven says, dismissive and Erik just blinks at her.

“Charles?” At Raven’s shake of the head Erik gapes at her. “You mean the boy you’re going to marry? He’s unaware of your intentions?” he asks slowly.

“He’s shy,” Raven says with a shrug. “And easily startled. I wanted to ask your opinion first.”

“Before the boy that you speak of?” Erik asks, incredulous.

“I thought you might be able to tell me the best way to approach him.”

“I still think you’re going about this a little backwards,” Erik says, moving out of his small gated front garden and offering a hand to Raven that she accepts and jumps down lightly. “And why would you think I would be able to give you advice?”

“I know what Charles thinks of you. I want to know what you did to inspire such devotion.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Erik says, his heart tripping over at Raven’s words. She’s his sister, she knows Charles better than anyone and to think that he could... that he might...

“Charles is very similar to Hank and-“

“Hank?” Erik manages to get out and barks a laugh. When Raven scowls at him he schools his expression.

“You think badly of him?”

“Not at all,” Erik says quickly. “I just... I didn’t expect you to think so _well_ of him is all.”

“He’s not like the other boys. He’s not silly or cruel. He’s sweet and humble and shy.”

“Things you definitely are not-ow!” Erik protests when Raven smacks him in the arm. He rubs at the spot, Raven always a little stronger than she realizes.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to make fun.”

“I’m not... I’m sorry Raven,” Erik says. “Just... it’ll be symbolic only. Because of the Law you won’t be able to so much as hold hands.”

“Until Migration,” Raven says, bouncing on her toes. “If we’re married we’ll be allowed to migrate together. Not all of us are lucky enough to be assured of Migration with the one we care for by virtue of birth date.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Erik says gruffly and picks a stick up off the ground to poke at Raven with. She squeals and darts away, laughing.

\- C -

“I hear you’re dolling out romantic advice,” Charles says, just as Erik takes a huge swallow of water. Charles grins when that gets the expected result, Erik choking and spluttering mightily. They’re sitting on Erik’s porch, watching Raven, Sean, Alex and Azazel play a rousing game of... something. Charles doesn’t exactly understand the rules. He knows one person has a brightly coloured cloth and everyone else is trying to take it. There are apparently teams involved but Charles doesn’t think even the players know which teams are what.

“Where did you hear that?” Erik manages, his voice sounding strained and Charles takes pity on him and chuckles.

“You think you’re so special that Raven only asked _you_ for advice?” Charles prods and Erik grimaces and looks away.

“She asked everyone?”

“Not everyone but certainly not just you,” Charles says. “My sister’s precocious and she likes to cast a wide net.”

“Is _Hank_ the only person out of the loop?” Erik asks, gesturing at the dark figure loitering at the edge of the game, waving off anyone that asks him to join and pushing nervously at his glasses. Charles can feel the tension rolling off Hank in waves even from a distance and without trying to.

“I think maybe Raven is asking _advice_ from so many people in the hopes that someone will accidentally mention it to Hank and he’ll feel compelled to do something about it.”

“Subtle,” Erik snorts and Charles nods his agreement.

“Subtle is something you could never accuse my sister of being.”

“How do you always know it’s me when I approach you?” Erik asks out of nowhere and Charles frowns, not really sure what he’s getting at.

“I approached you today,” Charles says. “And who else would be sitting on your porch?”

“You know what I mean,” Erik says.

“I hope you’re not asking what I think you’re asking,” Charles says slowly, voice pitched low. The Elders have a way of finding things out and Charles doesn’t want to tempt fate and their wrath by having the conversation Erik seems to be trying to have about his Affliction.

“I’m not... _Charles_. It’s just us, I’d like to know.”

Charles sighs and sags a little, aware that his shoulder and Erik’s are only inches apart. It’s hard to remember the Law, the reason for it, when Erik is sitting so close like he’s entitled to it, like there’s nothing wrong with it. Charles envies Raven’s boldness, feels like maybe he should borrow a little of it just this once, reach out and take what he wants.

“Everyone puts off... I’m not sure how to describe it, maybe a color is the closest thing to it. With some people it’s faint, just a blur, but with others it’s almost vibrant, something I can follow in the darkness. Do you want to know what your color is, if you’re vibrant?”

“Would you tell me?” Erik asks, sounding a little breathless.

Charles snorts and looks away. “It’s not ladylike to speak of such things, you shouldn’t ask,” he says primly and feels the barest brush against his arm, the fabric of his and Erik’s coats meeting. It’s fleeting and thrilling at the same time, out in the open like this where anyone could see them. “You used to carry my books for me to the schoolhouse, walk with me every day. One day you stopped. I even dropped my books in front of you and you didn’t help me pick them up.”

“What are you saying?” Erik asks, voice barely a whisper.

“Your color brightens when you draw close to me, sometimes it’s almost hard for me to look at, like staring into the sun.”

“What has that got to do with carrying your books?”

“Sometimes we don’t do the things we want to do, so that others won’t know we want to do them.”

\- E -

Erik hears a tap at his door and he rushes to it, expecting Charles. He startles backwards when he finds Elder Shaw on his threshold instead, looking serious.

“You’re still thinking of leaving the village,” Elder Shaw says, his voice hard and his face stony. Erik feels cold all over. If Charles truly could see color when looking at someone, his would be a brittle blue, fragile like the icicles that hang from his eaves in the winter. “We shall speak of the humans only once and I want it to be the end of it.”

Erik nods, hastily. Some of the Afflicted, from time to time, disappear. It always happens at night, they don’t arrive at the morning shared meal and everyone _knows_ what has happened but no one dares speak of it. They go on like nothing has happened and Erik wonders if that will be the case when he disappears, if _Charles_ will simply go on, eat his breakfast, hold class and find someone else’s color to admire.

“Your mother tried to hide what you were, tried to hide _you_. They killed her because of you, because of what you are.”

Erik feels the cold spread, twisting and becoming a horrible numbness in his extremities. Anything metal in his house from the pot set over the fireplace to the hinges on his door start to jitter. “Why are you telling me this blackness?”

Elder Shaw is looking about the room, at the jittering fixtures and trembling door. There’s something almost hungry on his features and he smiles, the expression as cold as Eric feels. “So you will understand the risks from what you desire.”

“It’s not _desire_ ,” Erik spits and something inside can’t _believe_ that he is speaking to an Elder this way, that he’s being so bold. Shaw is a man who had a hand in saving everyone in the village and continues to do so. Erik isn’t exactly sure where he was plucked from considering he was too young to remember but he knows at least Remy has a few tales to tell, scars from experiments and night terrors. Even Remy doesn’t know specifics but in his younger days, before he became closed off and surly he would speak of creatures in masks that cut him and cut him and cut him, trying to make him scream.

Trying to force him to make items he touched explode.

“I care about the Afflicted. I care for us and do not want to see another of us die senselessly,” Eri k says.

“There is always sense in death,” Elder Shaw says, shaking his head slowly. “You’re just don’t understand yet. I only fear for your life and the lives of all we protect here.”

“Is that what you fear?” Erik asks and is surprised when Elder Shaw’s eyes narrow. He hesitates before responding, something Charles always told him was the liar’s pause.

“We can bring forward your Migration,” Elder Shaw says abruptly and it doesn’t sound like an offer, it sounds like a threat. “You might just be ready for it now, hmm?”

Erik opens his mouth, but then closes it again. Once more his thoughts turn to Charles, whether Charles would miss him if he were gone, whether Charles would do something reckless. It’s this that freezes his tongue to the roof of his mouth, unable to press the issue. Elder Shaw watches him for a moment and then seems to see something that satisfies him. He nods once slowly, a barely perceptible up and down motion of his head. “Maybe Charles might be-“

“No,” Erik blurts, putting his hands up in an unconscious gesture of surrender. “We’re both... I’m sorry, I’ll drop it.”

“Good,” Elder Shaw says, seemingly appeased. He claps his hand together and this time his nod is a vigorous one. “Now, I hear there might be a wedding?”

“If you, Elder Frost and Elder Stryker would approve,” Erik says, thrown by this turn in subject but also grateful for it.

“Of course. A celebration will be just what everyone needs,” he says with a smile.

\- C - 

Charles is woken again by a sound that at first he thinks is a scream. He starts to rise when the sound resolves itself properly and gooseflesh breaks out all over his skin. There’s a loud banging at his door and Charles swings his legs out of bed as he hears the sound of Raven’s bare feet running to the front of their house. The door bangs open and then there is the sound of panicked voices.

“Did you set the alarm off by accident?” Charles demands when he reaches the living room and the blurred shapes of Raven and what he assumes to be Sean and Alex move towards him. “It’s not a toy.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Raven says, her voice thready with fear and that chases whatever lingering grogginess Charles had clinging to him away. Charles reaches out and heedless of the Law, grabs a handful of Sean’s shirt at his collar and shakes him.

“Is this true?”

“I saw the bad lights in the distance,” Sean says in a rush. “The ones we were always told to watch out for. The _red_ lights.”

“If this is some kind of joke,” Charles begins but then he feels Alex gently ease Sean away from him, put himself between Sean and Charles.

“I was in the Tower with him. I saw them too,” Alex says.

“Right,” Charles says and waves the three younger ones towards the large rug in the center of their living room floor. “There’s no time for you to make it back to your own homes. Quickly now.”

Raven darts towards the rug and flings it aside, revealing a trapdoor. A similar trapdoor can be found in every house built inside the village. Raven pulls the hatch up, revealing a crude staircase and a small space under the floor and Alex and Sean dart towards her as panicked cries start to filter into their home.

Alex and Sean have disappeared and Raven is halfway down, propping the trapdoor open with one hand when she looks back to Charles who hasn’t moved from the doorway of their house. “Charles, please close the door,” Raven whispers hoarsely.

“I think... Erik is outside,” Charles says slowly, not certain why he is sure about it, but he is.

“He’s safe inside his own home or somewhere else. Everyone’s heard the alarm by now, Charles please!” Raven implores as Alex and then Sean’s heads reappear, eyes both wide and frightened.

“He’s coming to make sure we’re safe,” Charles say s, more determined now, feeling like he is glued in place.

“You said we’d hide,” Sean pipes up, voice high and panicked. “Charles, you’d said we’d hide. They’ll come and take us away.”

“He’s-“ Charles starts to say and then he’s squinting, almost having to shield his eyes because something bright is coming his way, fast. Something brighter than the sun. He’s grabbed around the waist, almost lifted clear off his feet and the door is slamming shut behind them. He’s being passed down the stairs, Raven’s hands grabbing at him and the light dims, resolves itself, becomes more familiar.

Becomes Erik.

\- E -

“You’re fearless in a way that I’ll never know,” Charles says when Erik explains his confrontation with Elder Shaw, how he nearly brought ruin on them all.

Why he feels responsible for the Sentinels looking their way after all the years of peace.

“I know fear,” Erik says, wishing he could grasp Charles’ hand in his own but knowing he shouldn’t, not with the bustle of wedding preparations around them. Hank had been surprised and pleased with Raven’s non-to-subtle advances and had leaped at the opportunity to accept her proposal even if he was the one who ultimately asked the question for appearances sake.

Raven made him sink to one knee in the center of the village and had Sean ring the gathering bell to make sure everyone bore witness.

“Just not as others do,” Erik says and sighs as Angel darts over to them, pleading with Charles to follow her, he was desperately needed.

\- C -

At the long banquet table, Charles sits to Raven’s left, her right taken by her new husband. The wedding feast is only the second part of the night’s celebration, the first having already taken place and been the exchanging of vows and the third the planned dancing to the small hours of the morning still to come.

Everyone is expecting Hank to say a few words and Charles feels Hank’s growing nervousness, the almost palpable nature of it making Charles queasy. When the murmurs start up, impatience at having to wait for the feast to begin, Charles abruptly rises much like he did in the meeting hall and he hears Hank let out an audible sigh of relief.

Charles raises his glass and he hears all others do so also. Charles clears his throat and says, “We are grateful for the time we have been given.” It’s an odd toast, Charles knows it as soon as he’s uttered the words and it’s met with silence, everyone else not sure what to make of it. Slowly, glasses are brought to lips and then the awkward moment passes as impatience snaps and the wedding feast begins.

Charles sits, Raven leaning into his space and poking out her tongue. She’s smiling at him straight after it though as she passes Charles a sweet roll. “Must you always be so odd,” Raven chides and Charles chuckles.

“You’d be disappointed if I weren’t,” he says.

Later, Charles sits on the hillside with the others, the greenhouse, now converted into a dance hall, not yet ready to receive them according to Angel. She’d stolen most of Charles’ class to help string lights and apparently they’d made a hash of things and Angel had been forced to set everything to rights herself. Someone drops down beside him and Charles immediately bristles, recognising Remy.

“I had a sister,” Remy says and Charles blinks, unprepared for this bit of news.

“What was she like?” Charles asks, curious despite himself.

“Saucy and we fought endlessly,” Remy says and Charles is surprised into a laugh. He can feel someone’s gaze on the back of his neck and he knows immediately that it’s Erik, that Erik was probably on his way to join Charles himself when Remy beat him there.

“I can relate,” Charles says. “Can I ask her name?”

Remy doesn’t answer for a moment and Charles feels Erik’s attention like something weighted. He doesn’t mean to press but Remy holds himself apart from everyone except maybe Janos and Charles knows it isn’t good for him, that this might be the only chance he has to get Remy to unburden himself, perhaps offer some measure of solace. “Why didn’t the Elders bring her here?”

“They told me that she didn’t survive, that she tried to fight,” Remy says and Charles absorbs that information, swallows hard. “There’s evil outside this village and if Erik persists, he’ll bring it here,” Remy hisses, his genial tone disappearing.

“He wouldn’t do anything to threaten the village,” Charles insists and Remy snorts.

“He can’t see past his own ridiculous ideas. He thinks he knows what’s best for us but he doesn’t know anything. I won’t let him take us down with him.”

“You’ll do nothing to harm him,” Charles snaps, turning on Remy who has stood and moved away a pace. Charles can feel Erik approaching and wishes that Remy would go before this becomes a confrontation he can’t control. Erik has been volatile of late and Charles has started to fear what he might do if pushed.

“I won’t do _anything_ unless he does,” Remy grates out and prudently flees just as Erik reaches Charles’s side.

\- E -

Erik thinks he was quiet but being quiet enough not to wake others and quiet enough not to wake Charles are very different things. Charles emerges from his house, looking delightfully rumpled and with a section of hair at the back of his head sticking straight up. As soon as Erik notices it, Charles makes an annoyed noise and pats at it before finding Erik unerringly in the darkness like he always does, dropping down beside him with bare inches between their thighs.

“Do you think the Elders will come about the Sentinels?” Charles asks through a thick yawn. He pulls the robe he’s wearing tighter over his sleeps pants, fingers plucking at the knot at his waist.

“To see why we attracted their attention?” Erik asks and Charles nods. He tips sideways a little, swinging closer to Erik like he’s going to drop his head on Erik’s shoulder but stops just shy of doing so.

“Yes,” Charles agrees. He yawns again and this time it’s accompanied by a shiver.

“It’s cold outside. You should go back in,” Erik urges gently, looking out towards the small ring of houses at the center of the village and the meeting hall further down. There’s mist on the ground, a fine coating that makes everything look almost dream-like. Erik can’t see his house from Charles’, and couldn’t see Charles’ from his.

The meeting hall stands between them.

“Why are you sitting on my porch Erik?” Charles asks gently, his voice also pitched low like any kind of volume will break the spell between them.

“I just... it’s not safe,” Erik says, unsettled by Shaw’s visit, his threats. Erik is _frightened_ to go to sleep in his own house, to wake in the morning and find Charles gone like the mist will be.

“There are other porches,” Charles says. When Erik doesn’t respond, he lets a small sigh escape. “Do you find me boring?” he asks and Erik swings his gaze to Charles, studies his profile and the way it’s softened by broken sleep. “I always wanted to do exciting things, like that game at the Stump. You held the record and they still say it’ll never be broken.”

“It’s a stupid child’s game,” Erik dismisses. “It’s not that you couldn’t play but that you would never have bothered. What made you think of it anyway?”

“You’re brave,” Charles says simply and Erik snorts, the sound ripped from the back of his throat. Charles can’t have been more wrong if he tried. Fear drove Erik out of his bed, made him break out in a cold sweat at the very thought of... “I saw you out the window,” Charles says and when Erik’s attention snaps back to him instead of Shaw again Charles chuckles. “I’m still not going to tell you what color you are so you might as well stop asking.”

“Doesn’t it make you angry?” Erik asks, thinks of Daniel and how fragile he’d been. He had fallen maybe a foot, possibly only a tiny bit more but he’d smacked his head on a jutting rock and had bled to death on the inside, or so Elder Frost had told them. He’d bled to death on the inside where they couldn’t see, where they couldn’t staunch the flow.

Despite their Afflictions, they had been able to do little to save him, nothing really.

“What?” Charles says, quiet.

“That your sight is going, that eventually you’ll be completely blind.”

“I can see perfectly well,” Charles huffs and when Erik looks at him, Charles smiles, something small and secret in it. “Just not like others do.”

“Well I feel fear too,” Erik says and when Charles makes an unbelieving noise, Erik very deliberately takes Charles’ hand in his own, threads their fingers together and squeezes for the barest of seconds. He hears Charles’ breath, a sharp intake that sets Erik’s own heart racing. “Just not like others do. When I feel fear, it’s thinking about what could happen to you.”

Erik drops Charles’ hand but Charles reaches out, grabs a bunch of fabric at Erik’s shoulder and tugs sideways. Erik goes, not really sure what this is but then his face bumps up against Charles’, foreheads colliding and sliding. He’s got Charles’ warm breath on his face and it’s thrilling unlike anything he’s ever felt before and then their lips meet and it becomes so much better, sparks running across his skin like he’s on fire, like they both are.

Charles groans, a helpless sound that breaks any kind of willpower Erik has or was capable of having. His brain is working just enough to know that anyone could see them where they are, that either Janos or Remy would love the excuse to bring the might of the Elders down on their heads, bring their Migration forward or just have them disappear. They’re breaking one of the most fundamental Laws and Erik can’t find it in himself to care.

Erik grabs double-handfuls of Charles’ robe, unmindful of the way it pulls apart in his hands and drags Charles off the porch and around to the back of his house. There’s deep shadow behind, Charles’ house unlit by the lanterns that dot the village because the space between his house and the next one is narrow, no one walks behind it.

Erik pushes Charles’ robe the rest of the way aside, hasty now and Charles grunts when the bare sweep of his shoulder blades meets the cold wall of his house. Erik releases Charles’ robe and gets one hand dug deep into Charles’ sleep pants, grabbing at the hot firm length underneath. Charles lets out another sound, high and desperate, a sound that’s going to echo through Erik for years to come.

“How do you... how do you know what to do?” Charles manages to get out, more a grunt than actual words. He’s becoming harder in Erik’s fist, slippery now with want and his head has dropped back, throat exposed in a long pale line in the moonlight, the most beautiful thing Erik’s ever seen.

“I know what pleases me,” Erik says, dirty and low. “I often please _myself_ at the very thought of you.”

Charles laughs before he groans again, back bowing out and pushing himself up harder into Erik’s moving hand, rutting with abandon now. He’s obviously starved for touch, as Erik knows he is himself if being so close without Charles so much as getting a hand on him in return is any indication. Then Charles does reach out, gets a hand up and underneath Erik’s own jacket and shirt, pushing them up and out of the way and his fingers scrabbling at the bare flesh he finds.

Suddenly Erik is seeing how Charles sees, how Charles sees _him_. It’s like a feedback loop of pure want and light, the darkness retreating from even the very corners of the village under its power. Erik gasps and Charles does too. Erik wants to say _I know what you mean now, when you say you can see perfectly well_ but that would require more coherence than Erik is capable of at the moment because Charles is coming, hot and messy and perfect in his hand and Erik is too, untouched but only physically, the orgasm wrenched out of him as much as he’s wrenched it out of Charles.

\- C -

Charles feels mushy-headed, registers dimly that Erik tucks him back inside his pants, pulls his robe back around tight and ties it. He’s walked back around to the front of his house and right before they hit the circle of light cast by the lantern set on Charles’ porch, Erik gives him a little shove and lets go. His fingers trail up, brush over the bare space at Charles’ nape where his hair curls and then the touch is gone completely and Charles tries not to make too obvious a noise at the loss of contact.

The problem with having something forbidden that you didn’t know could be so _good_ is that Charles knows he’s now going to crave it, pure and simple. It’s going to occupy his waking thoughts, the way Erik pushed him back, took him apart and the way Erik had alluded to thinking of _him_ when he touched himself in the same way.

Charles wants to touch Erik in return, wishes fervently that he’d had the chance but he knows that he did in his own way and that he’s broken more than the one rule this night, that he’s in a lot of trouble when the Elders return because they have a way of just knowing what happens in the village.

They don’t speak again, Erik merely watches Charles until he’s back inside his house, perhaps reassured by the rising sun. Charles isn’t sure what exactly happened to make Erik so... fearful is not the right word but Erik is certainly worried about something, found an interesting way to change the subject when Charles was about to ask him that Charles couldn’t argue with.

Charles is worried that Erik regrets what they’ve done, that perhaps it’s ruined the fine balance they’ve maintained throughout the years. When Charles risks a glance back however, he’s reassured to see Erik smiling gently, possibly even a little dopily.

Charles had watched Erik at Raven’s wedding, at the celebration afterwards. He’d watched Erik dodge many invitations to dance, didn’t blame him because the dancing was always stilted even though everyone tried to have a good time because not being able to touch made things awkward. Raven and Hank made it work though, moved around each other in a way that seemed more intimate than if they’d been in a hard clinch, no space between them.

“Will you dance with me at _our_ wedding?” Charles calls right before he disappears inside his house, feeling bold. Erik laughs, a fully body thing and any remaining nervousness Charles is feeling drains away at the sound. He turns to his door but hears footsteps behind him, a quick clatter that he turns into and there Erik is, almost touching again.

Erik doesn’t close the distance but he’s leaning in close enough that Charles is curved backwards so that their eyes are still locked. “I will do whatever you ask of me,” Erik says. He smiles, a lift of just one side of his mouth. “Even if it’s that I must dance with you at our wedding.”

\- E -

Erik is heading for the main building and the communal meal when something hits him in the back of the head. He looks down in confusion and sees a spoon at his feet. Erik leans down to pick it up and this time a fork catches him on the cheek, not exactly painful but surprising.

Erik straightens slowly, sees Janos and Remy standing behind him, Janos with a handful of cutlery which is almost absurd enough to be funny. If it wasn’t a fistful of _metal_ objects, Erik might have even thought it _was_ funny. Something clenches tight in his stomach though when he sees Janos and Remy, the look on their faces, the _intent_ there.

“What are you doing?” Erik asks slowly, hoping despite everything that this is just another of their harmless pranks, that they don’t really mean to do what Erik thinks they are doing, to force his hand and show his Affliction. To break the greatest of their Laws.

To reach a point of no return.

“No, what are _you_ doing?” Remy asks, a sneer on his face. Janos hands him something, a large dessert spoon and Remy palms it, tosses it up in the air a few times. Erik thinks the items Janos has in hand are probably not all harmless spoons and forks, actually he _knows_ as much as the metal calls to him, tells him exactly the size and shape of itself, snags at his awareness.

Remy is just working up to his finale, perhaps gathering his nerve to do what he thinks needs to be done.

“You’re putting us all in jeopardy, taking our lives in _your_ hands,” Remy says and flicks the spoon at Erik. He doesn’t move, lets it glance off his shoulder even though it’s hard to resist the temptation to take it, snatch it out of the air and turn it back on his attacker, make it a sharper weapon, shape it and let it find flesh and bone. “You don’t know what’s out there.”

“Neither do you, not really,” Erik spits. “You were just a child when you came here and you were told horror stories like we all were. I know you have snatches of memory, that terrible things were done to you but how do we _know_ that that’s all there is waiting outside for us?”

“The Elders tell us,” Janos cuts in but his voice is just the tiniest bit wobbly, a touch unsure. Janos has a mean streak, it’s true but he’s also a born follower and Erik can tell that something in his voice, in his presence has Janos almost itching to listen to him, to fall in line. Remy seems to sense it too because he jostles Janos with his shoulder, forces him a couple of steps sideways and Janos gives him an annoyed look.

“We live in fear, cowering like children under their blankets when a storm hits but do we need to? Do we _really_ need to?” With Erik’s question, hearing it out loud he wonders why he himself has put up with it for so long, bent to rules that others have set down for reasons that become murkier the older he gets. The Sentinels have never breeched the village, nothing but their light passing over their heads and the whole thing has started to reek to Erik of deception.

Erik remembers Shaw, how he’d seemed almost _hungry_ in Erik’s presence, like he was waiting for something. There’d been a shine in his eyes when Erik had rattled the metal in his house, something akin to satisfaction, a look that Erik thought might be on his own face when what he was working on came out exactly how he was expecting or maybe even better than he was hoping.

Erik had left himself vulnerable and worse still, had left _Charles_ vulnerable. It’s easy to claim that you’ve saved someone when they’re too young to know any better. It’s easy to lie to the very young, have them grow up believing that lie with all their hearts. He doesn’t know _anything_ about the Elders other than what they’ve told him, that much he knows for sure and Erik doesn’t know why it hasn’t occurred to him before now how very wrong that is.

Something sharp catches him in the forehead, unexpected and Erik does flinch this time, feels the warm trickle of blood at his brow. Erik plucks the nail that caught in his shirt when it bounced off his head and holds it tweezed between two fingers, contemplates it and how such a small thing could be lethal in his hands.

Is that what this is then, Erik wonders. Are they not being kept safe from the world but the world being kept safe from them?

The idea is so reasonable, so rational that Erik is sure that it’s true. The Sentinels are just farce, a story to keep them in check. Monsters that have no emotion, whose only purpose is to destroy them and those of their kind. The disappearances are the work of the Elders, they don’t pretend otherwise but they also remain unexplained, the Elders feeling confident that all within the village are young enough, impressionable enough to remain silent and not question them.

Erik is suddenly, horribly angry. More angry than he’s ever felt in his life. He’s sick to death of being at the mercy of others and when something else comes at him, Erik stops it. It’s a butter knife this time, dull and so probably about as dangerous as the dessert spoon but Erik halts it all the same, no longer content with being powerless.

He hears a tiny gasp from Janos and a grunt from Remy. He turns the knife over and over in the air, touching it with nothing but his thoughts, contemplating the way it’s his, that _every_ piece of metal in the village is his to do with as he commands. Erik wishes Shaw, Frost or even Stryker were in front of him but since they’re not, Remy and Janos will have to do.

Erik snatches the remaining handful of cutlery and odd nails from Janos’ hand. He feels resistance, Janos making an instinctive grab for the items but the metal _wants_ to come to Erik and it does, circling him like birds of prey. Erik feels how malleable each and every piece is, soft like butter and he shapes them, forks and spoons and butter knives alike into points. They sing as they slice through the air like their edges are sharp enough to cut even the wind.

“Remy,” Janos says, a sound like a frightened moan. Janos, Erik can see out of the corner of his eye, takes a step backwards, two more before Remy snaps a hand out and grabs his sleeve, holds him in place.

“The Elders are going to take you,” Remy says, voice high and hysterical but triumphant, his eyes huge. “You won’t be up for Migration, you’ll just _disappear_.”

“What makes you think I would let them do that?” Erik asks. The swarm of metal around him spins faster and for a fraction of a second Erik’s attention lapses and he feels the bite of one of the blades on the back of his hand. He thinks crazily that now they’ve tasted blood, they’ll want more.

“They’ll... they’ve got to,” Remy says, suddenly unsure himself. His face is starting to pinch closed like he’s realising that the situation is spinning out of his control. Erik flicks one of the refashioned blades at him, not a lethal strike but it clips Remy’s upper arm and he cries out, clapping a hand to the injury, blood oozing between his fingers.

“Stop it!” Janos calls, shaken. A wind whips up around him, a small grey funnel that sends some of Erik’s blades into the dirt before he gets proper control of them. So distracted, he doesn’t see Remy dip and grab up a handful of stones, see them glow to life in his hand.

Remy tosses the stones at Erik and he ducks sideways. The stones explode when they hit the ground at Erik’s feet and he’s tossed over, the breath knocked out of him and tiny fragments of stone catching him in the cheeks, across his brow. He’s dropped his own projectiles in his surprise but he now reaches out and takes them up again, sensing but not seeing someone coming at him from the side.

Some deep-down self preservation instinct kicks in and Erik blindly strikes out with one of the reshaped blades, nothing getting through to him but that someone is moving at him, fast. Erik hears a pained grunt and then suddenly silence, Janos’ wind died down to nothing.

Erik swipes at his face, blood in his eyes from the cuts on his face. His vision is blurry at first and he sees someone on their knees, slumped over with their forehead pressed to the ground like they’re prostrating themselves. Erik thinks it’s an odd thing to do but then through the haze he recognizes that curve of back, knows it as intimately as his own because he’s watched it from a distance and more recently up close for more years than he can remember.

“Charles,” Erik breathes through a throat that suddenly feels closed. He registers briefly that Janos and Remy are frozen lumps standing together, white and shocked but then Erik is climbing to his feet and someone is screaming Charles’ name again and he thinks it might be him.

Erik skids to a stop on his knees, almost mirroring Charles’ position as he gets a hold of Charles’ shoulders, pulls him upright. He sees Charles cupping something at his belly and when he pries Charles’ hand away he sees what he’s dreading, the hilt of one of his sharpened blades protruding from Charles’ stomach.

Charles makes a pained noise when Erik turns him over, lowers him so Charles is cradled against his chest. He starts to say, “Don’t... don’t... don’t...” but he doesn’t know what, can’t finish the sentence for the life of him. He looks up, pins Janos with his gaze and says, “Go get some help, for fuck’s sake go get some help!”

Janos jerks like he’s been poked and then spins and runs back towards the cluster of buildings at the village’s centre. Erik’s attention switches to Remy, narrows on the chain around Remy’s neck, the one leftover he has from his childhood, the one possession he brought into the village with him. Erik feels it leap under his concentration, jerk up and backwards. Remy immediately scrabbles at it as Erik watches bruises bloom under its tightening hold.

Charles’ fingers bump up against Erik’s jaw, touch light but insistent. “Don’t,” Charles manages, unconsciously repeating Eric’s earlier plea. “He didn’t do this.”

 _You did_ , Charles doesn’t say but Erik hears it anyway, as clear as if Charles had spoken aloud.

-C-

Charles casts his mind out, grown careless by the fog of pain and the need to find something to ground him. He bumps up against Raven first, her thoughts narrowed in a way that's familiar and also expected. There's a lot of worry, more than she's letting on and there's also a survivalist's brain ticking away, weighing options and making plans. Her thoughts snag on the bare library they have, the range of books on offer and whether anything can help.

Charles moves farther out, almost trips over Sean and then Alex, huddled together on Charles' porch, reminding Charles of he and Erik what seems like years ago and must have only been days or even hours before now. Sean's mind is a jumble of worry much like Raven's but it's more disorganised, a fidgety mess that Charles is reassured by because it’s familiar.

Alex is more closed off but Charles manages to parse that while there is concern there for Charles himself, Alex is already worrying about what it means for the rest of them too. Charles is surprised to find that Alex has the mind of a leader, will probably take his and Erik's place as the person the others will look to when they leave. Alex is quiet and contained which means it was easy to look over his potential when stood next to his brother.

Charles stretches further out still, to the very edges of the village until the murmur of background voices drops away and there is only one, the mind he’s looking for, the one he probably always will be drawn to. Charles is feeling exhausted in a way that doesn't have much to do with his injuries but he gathers himself enough to say, _not even going to say goodbye?_.

He feels Erik reel, startled and searching. When he confirms to himself that he's alone, he's able to figure out what's happening, where the voice in his mind has come from. He doesn't shy away though as Charles fears but instead seems to mentally grab a hold of Charles, yank him close.

 _Am I going somewhere?_

 _I feel... it's like you're already out of my reach_

Charles knows the truth of the words bone-deep as soon as he lets them go. Erik has always held himself apart from everyone, even Charles on occasion but Charles has never felt Erik so distant before, like a great chasm opened between them as soon as blade met flesh. Something was cut loose in Erik at that moment.

 _I'm sorry, I..._

It's an apology, not a denial.

 _I'm too dangerous,_ Erik continues and Charles sighs.

 _You, my friend, are someone I will never fear,_ Charles says and feels Erik chuckle, an odd reverberation through his skull. _Will you come back for me?_ Charles presses, hating the note of desperation he knows is in the thought, also wary of the power of it. Charles knows that he could make it a command instead of a question so very easily, compel Erik to do as he wishes, remain close. _I could make you stay_.

He also knows he could never actually do that.

 _I'm not going anywhere_ , Erik tries to reassure him, but even though he doesn't put the actual thought into words, the funny thing about having a purely mental conversation is Charles hears the _yet_ as clearly as if Erik had.

-E-

“I’ve closed the wounds, but there’s still the risk of infection.”

Erik watches Raven fidget, shuffle from foot to foot with a book clutched to her chest. She looks pensive, wanting to ask but not sure how. Erik doesn’t need to be able to see into minds to know what she wants of him. “What can we do?”

“Hope for the best?” Raven says, biting at her lip, white against blue that’s always a little startling.

“If there was no limitations, what could we do?” Erik presses. He’s still at the edge of the village, has been at the border for hours. He can’t bear to see Charles pale against bedsheets, knows he’s a coward but just can’t handle it. Helplessness has never sat well with him and he wouldn’t be able to abide it, not Charles’ but his own in the face of it.

“What are you asking me?” Raven says slowly and Erik sighs, a long, low sound.

“Answer my question,” Erik says levelly.

“If the chance infection is contained, he could survive,” Raven says, words a flood now he’s given her permission. “There are medicines.” She holds the book up and out to him, fingers tripping over words he doesn’t bother to read. “Nothing we have here but maybe the Elders-“

“You know they’ll just take him away. We’ll never know what happens to him. Do you want that?”

“No,” Raven says, startled into tears by the very idea. “No, Erik, _please_ -“

“If he dies...” Erik begins, curling his hands into fists. He turns to Raven who has once again pulled the book back towards herself, is hugging it like it can offer any kind of protection. “Make a list of what he needs,” Erik instructs and Raven nods quickly.

“I can come-“

“Stay with Charles,” Erik says quickly. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

-C-

“Will he really return, do you think?” Charles asks because he’s not sure. Erik isn’t close enough to feel anymore and there’d been such a distance to him, shadows clouding over his color even before he left that it had become difficult to read his intentions.

Raven puts a cool hand to his brow, strokes lightly. “Always to you,” she says with a smile in her voice.

-E-

The forest that surrounds their village is dense. Erik pushes through branches with bare hands, unmindful of the scratches and cuts. When he’s been walking for three hours, the sensation of metal all around him is so strong and all encompassing that it drives him to his knees, panting and overwhelmed. He’s lucky because at that moment two men pass by where he is crouched, talking to each other in low voices.

Erik stares, surprised. They wear matching outfits of drab green, almost blending into the forest. He would have missed them had he not stopped, run directly into their path. They have metal at their hips, a feeling of leashed power he’s never felt before. These men are _human_ , Erik thinks with wonder.

They don’t look quite so nightmarish up close.

There’s a rustle behind him and a third man Erik hadn’t seen is there before Erik can react, is staring at Erik in shock. “Where the hell did you come from?” the man demands, raising a long black object and pointing it at Erik.

“I’m not... I just need...” Erik begins to explain, goes to dig into his pocket for the list Raven gave him and he hears the man scream something at him and then there’s a sharp crack.

Erik blinks at the small, metal object that’s stopped inches from his nose. It’s the size and shape of the end of his finger and he recognizes it from one of Raven’s books. A projectile from a weapon, a _bullet_. It rotates slowly in the air in front of Erik’s face, vibrating with unspent volatility. The man behind it has his mouth hanging open. “Oh my god, you’re one of-“

Erik hears the sound of the two other men crashing through the undergrowth behind him and he spins, snatches the metal, the _guns_ they both have in hand and slams them up and back. The men both go down, knocked out by their own weapons and Erik turns back to the third man, the man’s face draining of color before his very eyes. Erik reaches out and plucks the bullet out of the air. Before he can do anything, the man flees.

Erik turns back to the overwhelming feeling of metal, makes towards it. He stumbles to a stop when he emerges from the treeline and sees a metal wall in front of him, taller than two people and the looming shape of a Sentinel beyond it, just like they were described in the stories.

Erik lets out a bark of pure, joyous laughter because the Sentinels are also _metal_. He can feel it down to his bones. The laughter dies on his lips though because something’s very wrong here, the Sentinel he’s looking at is hollow, nothing more than a statue. Erik reaches out his hands, curls his fingers and a section of wall in front of him curls back in on itself, crumples and peels away. Erik steps beyond it, sees the thing they all feared, how it’s mired in mud, has weeds growing around its feet and up its legs, rust dotting its body.

It’s a motionless metal man, as dangerous as one of Raven’s dolls.

-C-

“His will to live is very strong,” Alex says as he drags a chair up beside Raven. Charles can hear them moving around, wishes he could reassure them but everything is going grey, fuzzy-edged and indistinct.

“I thought it was safer for us here, safer for the people out there,” Alex says, voice a low reassuring rumble. “I’d... hurt people. I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t always control it. Shaw came for me, came for my brother. My parents were scared of us, thought we were monsters and I suppose... I could see why. They didn’t care where he was taking us, as long as he was taking us. They looked relieved.”

Raven makes a small noise and Charles isn’t sure what it means.

“But this isn’t the answer,” Alex continues. “I thought maybe there was something wrong with us but... Charles isn’t evil. How can someone like _Charles_ be dangerous? Why is he here?”

“You and Scott aren’t evil,” Raven says. “Did you really think that?”

“Maybe but... now I’m not so sure.”

“I think I’m starting to figure out who the monsters are,” Raven says, voice like a firm line. “It isn’t _us_.”

-E-

“Oh my god.”

Erik had been so distracted by the Sentinel before him, at puzzling at the lie that it represented that he hadn’t heard anyone else approach. He spins in place now and finds a woman with long dark hair and a heavy coat. She’s standing in front of yet another metal object, a large box resting on rubber. She’s hugging her coat to herself, a ribbon that had tied her hair back pulling free in the wind.

There’s no weapon on her like the men had and Erik relaxes just a fraction, still wary.

“Did you... did you come out of _there_?” she asks, pointing at the wall.

Erik’s not sure how to answer. He knows now that the Sentinels were a farce but the human’s willingness to hurt them seems to have at least been true. The first ones he encountered attacked him and now this woman... he’s not sure what to make of her. Erik steels himself because Charles is at risk and therefore he needs to take one. “I need a healer, a doctor. I need medicine,” Erik says.

The woman blinks at him for a second before concern clouds her features. “Are you hurt?”

“Not me,” Erik says quickly. He digs into his pocket and pulls Raven’s list free. “I need these things. Do you know where...?”

The woman starts to approach him but then hesitates. “Did you come out of there?” she asks again and when Erik turns to see the wall he peeled back he notices something written a little way up from the hole he’d made.

 _Shaw Wildlife Preserve._

Erik just stares at the words for a moment, knows the meaning of them but doesn’t know what it all _means_. “It’s just-“ the woman starts up again. “I’ve been trying to get access for _years_ , ever since the agency passed this case to me but I’ve been stonewalled at every turn. There’s some higher ups _very_ interested in keeping whatever is in there a secret. They don’t even fly planes overheard, all the routes were changed but I _know_ what’s going on-“ the woman cuts herself off, her eyes going wide, probably realising she’s said too much considering she doesn’t know who Erik is or where he came from.

“Can you get these things?” Erik presses, holding the list out again and this time the woman makes it all the way over to him, takes the list from his hand. She frowns at the list for a moment. “There’s a small doctor’s surgery not too far from here. It’s closed and my lockpicking skills are a little rusty but I’m sure I can...” the woman looks up again. “Is someone hurt?”

Erik nods and the woman’s mouth firms up, a stubborn expression that reminds Erik strongly of Raven. “My name’s Moira MacTaggert. I’m looking for Charles Xavier.” Moira presses forward when all Erik can do is gape at her. “My god, you know the name, don’t you?”

“I know Charles, yes,” Erik manages to get out through a suddenly dry throat. He feels shaken, too much information to process all at once. “How do you?” he demands.

“I was hired by Charles’ parents, retained by their estate when they died. They’d been looking for their son ever since he was taken. They never gave up hope. My investigation dead-ends here, at this place.” Moira fixes him with a level gaze, unflinching. “Did you come out of there?”

“I live in there, or I did,” Erik confirms and one of Moira’s hands darts to her throat, clutching at the scarf tied there. She pulls it free and squeezes it, something lit up in her face.

“I _knew_ it,” she says. “I knew there was something they were hiding and-“

“What are these?” Erik asks, waving a hand at the Sentinel behind him, at the one he can see in the distance.

Moira makes a face. “Something garish put up by the Shaw Foundation,” she says. “An installation. They’ve been there for years, as long as I can remember.”

“They’re not dangerous?” Erik asks because even though he thinks it’s true, he’d like it confirmed.

Moira snorts, an indelicate sound that’s endearing. “They’re just statues.”

“Just statues,” Erik murmurs and nods but there are more urgent matters at hand. “Look, can you get this stuff?” Erik says, clicking fingers at the list now in Moira’s hand.

“Yes. Can you take me to Charles Xavier?”

“If you get that stuff, _now_ ,” Erik says and Moira nods, spins and runs back to her metal contraption.

“Stay right there, don’t move,” she calls, high color in her cheeks and excitement in her voice.

-C-

“You hold on, Erik will be back soon,” Raven promises, warm voice against his ear.

 _I’m trying_ , he tells her without words.

-E-

Another group of men had come for Erik while Moira was away and she steps around the pile of them gingerly, looking worried when Erik leads her through the wall. “They’re unconscious, not dead,” Erik says, assuming that will be reassuring but she doesn’t look reassured.

“There was a pattern to the disappearances,” Moira explains to him as they work their way back through the forest, a paper sack containing the precious medicine clutched in Erik’s hand. “There’re dead ends in every case but this was unbelievable. Promising leads would go cold, records disappeared, it didn’t add up. We couldn’t really do much until the Xavier’s contacted us. They had enough money to throw at the problem and keep on throwing.”

“They died?” Erik asks, noting the way Moira speaks of them in the past tense.

“In a car accident, _together_ ,” Moira says, sounding disgusted. “I couldn’t prove anything about that either but it was suspicious as hell, ow!”

Erik glances back, offers her a hand when he notices she’s snagged a sleeve on a tree branch. She smiles ruefully. “I wasn’t exactly wearing my cross country outfit.”

“What do you know about Charles?”

“Not much,” she says. “He was very young when he was taken and the Xavier’s only came to me after of course. They had been approached about sending Charles to a special school for the gifted only weeks before he disappeared, said a very firm no because they didn’t like the man that approached them.”

“They wanted him back,” Erik breathes, cheered by the thought. He’d always felt a little unredeemable himself but couldn’t understand a world where Charles had been tossed aside, unwanted. Charles was _lovely_ in every way and to find out that he had parents that had devoted everything to having him returned to them gave Erik just the tiniest sliver of hope to cling to that the world outside their village wasn’t completely irredeemable. “What about his sister?”

Moira stumbles to a halt and Erik thinks she’s tripped again but she’s just staring at Erik. “Charles doesn’t have a sister,” she says slowly and Erik frowns, thinks that’s something he’ll have to ask Charles about when he gets the chance later.

He almost smiles at the thought of Charles taking Raven in like a stray pup on a whim.

“We must hurry,” he says abruptly instead, knowing that every passing minute might be bringing them closer to something that doesn’t bear thinking about.

Moira pulls up short when they reach the boundary of the village and Erik can feel her surprise like a palpable presence at his back. He can’t take the time for her to get over her shock though, breaking into a run for Charles’ house as soon as he’s able to.

-C-

  
Charles isn’t dead and he is infinitely pleased and stunned by this development.

Erik is at his bedside, asleep with his head on Charles’ mattress and his body awkwardly hanging off the edge of his chair. One hand rests curled by Charles’ hip and this is what Charles picks up and holds against his cheek for a moment, because he can.

“And who might you be?” he asks, turning slightly to take in the woman sitting in the corner of the room with a notepad across her lap and a stubby pencil gripped in her fist. As soon as he asks the question her name floats across her mind. “Moira, nice to meet you.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to meet you,” she says, voice a low whisper so as not to disturb Erik. Charles doesn’t bother to tell her that Erik is miles under, would probably have to be pushed out of his chair to even stir. “When I left the office a few days ago I wasn’t expecting to...” She flaps the notebook around in the air, trying to encompass the entirety if what has happened. “It’s unbelievable,” she finally settles on, letting out a high-pitched, nervous laugh.

Moira stands and approaches, biting at her lip. “I really think you need a hospital,” she says finally and Charles sighs and sits back.

“I agree that we have to leave before the Elders come at the very least.”

“Erik talked about your Elders,” Moira says. “One of them sounds like the man I’ve been trying to track down since I started looking for you. I’m not really sure what’s going on here but it isn’t good, that’s for sure.”

“I think I can agree with you there,” Charles says and at that moment Raven bursts into the room. Erik startles into wakefulness at her exuberant entrance.

“I told you to get me if he woke up,” she snaps at him and Erik just blinks blearily at her, Charles unable to do anything but smile at the both of them a little helplessly, so much affection for them squeezed into his chest that he has no idea how he has the room for it.

“I told you I’d be back,” Erik says and takes Charles’ hand back, their grip broken when Erik had woken.

 _Epilogue_

“Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters.”

“Do shut up.”

“No, I think it has a certain ring to it,” Erik says, laughing when Charles smacks him in the face with a sandwich. At least he didn’t throw one of Sean’s brownies, those things were known to be lethal.

“Between you and Moira, I’m never going to have any peace,” Charles grumbles and lays back, sprawled on the blanket set out across the floor in the library for their makeshift indoor picnic. Charles had had dozens of rooms to choose from in his estate to make his bedroom, all bigger than his whole house in the village. He still finds it a little hard to believe that he has an _Estate_ and more money in trust than he knows what to do with. Moira had handled everything for him, including tracking down the families of the children that were willing to take them back and organizing for him to be legal guardian of those not old enough to be on their own for those that didn’t.

He and Erik often retreated to the library because it had a fire, a chess set and wasn’t as daunting as most of the other rooms.

There is the sound of some of the children thumping by in the hallway.

“Any word about Remy?” Erik asks carefully and Charles sighs.

“Hank’s working on something that might help us track down him, Janos and Azazel,” Charles says. When they’d gathered everyone to leave the village, the three of them couldn’t be found, probably terrified of any reprisals for what had been done. Erik was still angry, Charles knew he had trouble letting go of it but Charles was just worried that Shaw would scoop them up again.

“We should be working on tracking _Shaw_ down,” Erik growls. “How many did he-“

“Erik,” Charles interrupts gently, tired to his bones of the same fight they’ve been having since they left the village, Erik itching to follow Shaw to the ends of the earth if necessary, wanting revenge. Charles doesn’t feel the need for it, instead content to embark on a better life, protect those he can and try to integrate into the world that he’s only just learning to understand. When he’d been wounded he’d felt Erik grow distant and that distance remains, a spike of pain Charles can feel like a physical thing.

It’s hard to worry about it though when Erik is still by his side, rolling into him and pressing his nose into Charles’ neck. He peels his lips back and grazes his teeth just under Charles’ ear where it makes Charles shiver. “Anyone could come in,” Charles point out, a little breathlessly.

“We’re in the _library_ ,” Erik says, voice muffled because he’s gently chewing on Charles’ neck. “None of the children will venture in here voluntarily.”

“They will if they hear you, you noisy bugger,” Charles says with a chuckle that turns into a moan when Erik bites down harder.

“I dreamed about this,” Erik says, wedging an arm under Charles and curling him up and over so that Charles is sprawled across his body, moved up and down when he breathes. “I dreamed that I could have you close without fear, without reprisals.”

Charles smiles, touches fingers to Erik’s brow, traces the sharp jut of his cheekbone and the line of his jaw. “Stay with me then,” Charles says.

“I will,” Erik’s tone is careful and even though he doesn’t say it, Charles hears it anyway because he can’t help it. _For now_.

Instead of questioning it though he just wraps his body around Erik, holds onto him with everything he can. He understands that Shaw may one day come for them, but he pities whoever thinks they can come after Charles and his students now.

He’s sure he has time to convince Erik to let Shaw go, have them live their lives together.

He’s sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, THANK YOU to [info]samibee - the artwork is lovely! Thank you to the organizers of this wonderful challenge.
> 
> Thank you as always to my off-LJ beta Superfox. Any remaining grammar gaffs, homophone abuses or general mish-mashes of the English language belong to me.
> 
> This is an AU based loosely on The Village. Knowledge of the source movie is not required.


End file.
